“We’re doing well, Marcus,” I said, inviting him in.
We sat on the porch, looking out at the mountains. The “Gray Ghost” was officially retired from deep-cover work. I was now a senior instructor at the Academy, a mother, and a woman who finally owned her own name.
“I saw the final report on the Harper estate,” Thorne said. “The mansion is being converted into a recovery center for wounded operatives. They’re ripping up the Persian rugs tomorrow.”
I laughed—a real, warm sound. “Good. They were always too hard to clean.”
Thorne looked at me, his expression serious. “You did a hell of a job, Elena. Most people would have broken.”
“I’m a Vance,” I said, looking at the mountains where I grew up. “We don’t break. We just wait for the storm to pass so we can see the horizon.”
Inside, Sarah let out a loud, healthy cry.
I stood up, the light of the new dawn hitting my face. I wasn’t the girl from the holler anymore, and I wasn’t the billionaire’s accessory. I was a protector. I was a mother. And I was a Ghost who had finally come home.
I walked into the house, leaving the door open to the fresh, mountain air. The Harpers had tried to bury me. They didn’t know I was a seed. And now, in the warmth of the spring, I was finally ready to bloom.
